ON TOUR!

July 05, 2011

tour journal
day 1
I left Grand Rapids at about 4pm. Last stop before the express way was, of course, at a gas station. That's where things got weird. I was approached by a young, skinny beardo named Bill. Bill was from Madison Wisconsin. He was traveling to Rothbury for the Electric Forest Festival with some friends. His friends ended up getting busted with a bunch of pot, cash and other drugs as soon as they crossed the border into MI. Bill was not arrested, but two of his friends were. Poor kid never made it to the Electric Forest. He'd been wandering around Grand Rapids since Friday and was eager to go home.
Some people would holler and scream at me for picking up a complete stranger for a 3 hour car ride. In fact, my friends in Chicago told me I was nuts for picking up a hitchhiker. I, however, feel that it is my cosmic duty as a barefoot hippie to help strangers when I can. The fact of the matter is that Chicago is a lot closer to Madison, WI than Grand Rapids is. I had room in the car, so. . .
Within minutes of hitting the highway Bill asks "Where are you going?" I replied, "I'm going on tour." He responded "Cool! Does your band ever dose when you play?"
"No."
"Oh. Have you ever dosed and played music?"
"No."
"Oh. I used to take a bunch of acid. I gotta play music. It's like, the earth, you know. It's all connected. Music is like a religion to me. Cause when I take acid I read the bible, you know?"
"You read the bible on acid? Why?"
"I don't know. The last time I ate a bunch of acid I just opened up the bible and it was really speaking to me. You know, like the part where it says that we should just love each other and, like, love the world, you know. It just was really speaking to me.
"I don't read the bible." I said hoping to avoid a religious conversation for the next 3 hours.
"Oh. So do you like to eat a bunch of acid too?"
"No."
For the next three hours I watched Bill sit forward, cross his hands and then lean back in a repetitive way that made me doubt he was sober. He was also grabbing for something in the air that was invisible to me, but obviously had completely surrounded him. He would occasionally look at me and say "What?" even though I barely spoke a word to him for the rest of the drive. I felt bad for Bill. He was skinnier than a pole at a strip club and looked like he hadn't eaten all weekend. I fed him some cheese and cracker sandwiches and let him use my cell phone to call his Mom. And then, much in the same way that I acquired Bill, I left him at a gas station in Chicago. He was a lot closer to home than when I found him and I hope for his mothers sake that he made it.
Ah, the road. . .
Headed to St. Louis now.